Breaking Bread

"You live in an amazing country and so do I. You've put a man on the moon. Right now in time is a moment when we're all confused about how brilliant we are and how technically advanced we are and that is fighting with what once made our countries great which is family, community, being together, and something honestly as simple as putting a few ingredients together and sitting your family and your friends and yourself and your girlfriend and your mother-in-law around that table and breaking bread. If you think that's not important then shame on you." ~~ Jamie Oliver

This week Tom and I took the girls to the Lorane Valley, a portion of the Willamette Valley's wine country.

Our first stop was Silvan Ridge where, after exploring the Old World style compound we gathered around a wooden patio table and broke bread, surrounded by acres and acres of newly budding grape vines.

Up the neighboring hill we drove, after our lovely meal, to our next destination Sweet Cheeks. There we enjoyed the magnificent hilltop vineyard view as well as dessert from home and wine tasting. Sweet Cheeks makes marvelous wine!

Meandering further along we came upon King Estates with its over one thousand acres of grapes, fruit tree orchards, herb and vegetable gardens all surrounding an impressive chateau which includes the winery and restaurant.

With temperatures in the low 70's the fragrance of blossoms, spring grasses, and rich soil was more intoxicating than the wine.

To share leisurely meals and treats with these precious people under a pale blue sky, amidst the liveliness of food growing up from the earth invigorated me. Walking among acres of vines carefully manicured for the best possible result rooted me to what is real and that is life. All life. But mostly human beings.

Jamie's quote above settles and strengthens my heart. The confusion between achievement and being is alarming. What makes a country great is her people. The same holds true for a community, and a family. While it is important that we work and create - that we 'do' - far more important is who we are and that is cultivated through sharing life's experiences with one another. Listening. Pondering. Laughing. Observing. Giving. Taking the time to know one another, to trust one another, to grow individually and together.

What better way to enrich ourselves than at the table with family and friends, a few simple ingredients put together, gratefully received?

"If you think that's not important, then shame on you."

Providing Joy

"In combining beauty with comfort and liveliness, the Italians are able to provide the joy in life which their conquerors in the past, no less than their friends and visitors at all times, have found unfailingly irresistible." ~~ from Italia: the Art of Living Italian Style, by Edmund Howard

Italia calls to many of us in our over-worked, under-enjoyed west. Her laid-back attitude about life as compared to our industrial, achievement-oriented culture, her love of all things beautiful as compared to our love of all things efficient, utilitarian, and easy, her spontaneity as compared to our appointment-driven compulsion to 'get the most out of every minute,' her liveliness and comfort combined with beauty as opposed to America's love affair with mediocrity. Yes, Italia's Spirit woos me.

Yesterday Cassie and Caroline hosted a St. Patrick's Day Party for several of their friends. They could have dumped some salty chips into a bowl, poured some M&M's into another dish, boiled some hot dogs and called it good.

But they didn't.

Instead they thoughtfully planned.

Irish food? Corned Beef hash, Irish Soda Bread, Lamb Stew, all good but not quite right. "Potatoes. Don't the Irish love potatoes?"

"Yes."

Fifteen large russet baker potatoes carefully washed, nicked of blemishes, kosher salted, and tightly wrapped in foil baked at 375 degrees for two hours. The house smelled fantastic! While the tubers roasted we three women grated fresh cheese, cooked up superior bacon, unwrapped creamy fresh local butter, and plopped local sour cream into pretty red bowls. The first chives of spring were appreciatively harvested, chopped, and slid into a tiny pink dish. Organic carrots were stick-cut and set to chill. Fruit was delicately washed, cut, drizzled with honey and pineapple juice. Crystal kosher salt was poured into a Japanese tea cup with a shiny, tiny spoon, and peppercorns placed next to it in a crystal grinder.

The table was set with green and gold cloths, pretty plates, green baskets, pretty plants in colorful pots, and a tall green, tapered candle surrounded by freshly cut purple-blossoming rosemary and pink heather. Bowls of food, baskets of hot potatoes, plates of vegetables, shamrock bedecked napkins, and 'the good' silverware added to the gaiety.

Light-hearted Irish tunes played merrily as my daughters' guests walked into the kitchen and spotted the bounty. Joy! The girls grinned as their knives cut through the perfectly cooked spuds as through butter. Delicious fats and seasonings were spread and sprinkled into and onto the steaming delights, then fruits and vegetables carefully spooned onto plates. Art. Young women created perfect plates of food as they spoke their happiness. "I LOVE potatoes. Nice BIG potatoes! And FAT! And Fresh Fruit!"

Then, sheer contentment - even bliss - as they savored every bite.

Cassie and Caroline provided beauty in a comfortable, lively setting. For hours and hours these young woman enjoyed each others' company, relaxed, legs curled under them while relaxing in overstuffed furniture, or sprawled out on huge pillows under shamrock garlands. Friendship. Relaxation. A space of time separated from the harried life of a high school student. The world of decisions, and homework, and parents, and boys, and responsibility drifted away for awhile. Refreshment took its place.

We all need time to restore in order to continue energetically creating our lives.

Healthy foods served in beautiful ways amidst comforting surroundings with people who love and support us just as we are.

Providing joy looks just so.

Hari Hachi Bu

Our stomachs have stretch receptors which signal information to our brains. It takes these little guys twenty minutes to tell our brains how full we really are. Most of us know this already.

In addition, if we regularly eat until we feel 100 percent full we will actually be about 20% overcapacity with every meal. The stomach will stretch a little bit more each time we eat to accommodate the extra food. Then, we'll have to consume more the next time we eat to get that same feeling of fullness. Vicious cycle.

While this signaling and stretching of the stomach was beneficial during the days when foraging and hunting for food were the norm it can be a detrimental mechanism with food readily available on every corner and in our own homes.

What to do?

Hari Hachi Bu.

Loosely translated, hari hachi bu means, 'eat until you are eight parts full (out of ten)'. The Okinawans - a population known for their very long, high-quality life spans - practice this habit. They do not go hungry, no, not at all, but they do stop eating before they burst at the seams. They simply leave a little room at the end of each meal.

Sensitivity to signals requires merely listening to your body, its sensations, learning from your eating experiences, and then practicing what is learned.

For example, last night I made a delicious roast beef dinner especially for Tom as his job is taking him away from home for twelve and thirteen hours a day this week. Grass-fed beef slowly roasting amidst fresh picked rosemary, smashed garlic cloves, and wedged onion. Red potatoes mashed to perfection. Perfectly steamed broccoli. And Cassie made homemade vanilla ice cream with the freshest ingredients including fair-trade, organic, no-soy, no-milk-powder dark chocolate whacked into chips. Some of Tom's favorite foods. Mine, too.

While I was careful to serve myself conservative amounts of food, it was so tasty. Moist meat, creamy potatoes, the broccoli with the just the right amount of bite. I ate slowly. I savored. I found myself near hari hachi bu with a little space saved for Cassie's ice cream.

But the potatoes. Just a few more. I still have room.

Stupid.

I ate a few more. Then, I ate some ice cream. I knew full well what I was doing but I did it anyway.

It wasn't that much food, but it was past 100%. Just a little. Just enough to make me feel over full. Not a good feeling. My few moments of pleasure eating that one scoop too many potatoes stayed with me for hours. I made myself move for the next couple of hours rather than sit and that helped. But I know my sleep was impaired for at least the first half of the night. I could feel my body still hard at work digesting when it should have been free to rest and restore.

The good in last night's experience is that I paid attention. I scolded myself for my stupidity, then forgave. Lesson learned. Lesson remembered - for now. Eat until you are 80% full. Why? For one, it feels bad not to.

Hari Hachi Bu. A wonderful aid when obeyed.

Making it Better

Small changes add up to big differences.

I have a chocolate cupcake recipe given to me years ago by an old farmer's wife. It's called Never Fail Cupcakes. Dense moist chocolate cupcakes that are simple to make and eagerly received.

Delicious and elegant with a fluffy vanilla butter cream frosting but oh, so sweet. Special occasions yes.

Often I just want to serve a bit of cake without all the sugary frosting.

For a lighter cupcake I simply sprinkle seven or eight chocolate, peanut butter, or white chocolate chips - or a mixture of two or three flavors - over the top of the already spooned in batter. Then, I add a hearty pinch of raw sugar sprinkled over the chips. The sugar adds sparkle and a crispy texture which complements the moist cupcake and gooey chips.

Very nice. I've been told they look 'fancy.'

Pleasure.

Never Fail Cupcakes
1 1/2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 cup baking cocoa
1 egg
1/2 c. sour milk *
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 cup hot water, tap is fine
1 tsp. oil

*If you don't have sour milk - and really, who does? - you can use buttermilk or sour your own milk by placing 1 1/2 tsp. apple cider, white, or rice vinegar into a 1/2 cup measuring cup. Fill to 1/2 measurement with regular milk and let sit for five minutes. Voila! Sour milk!

Beat all at once in mixer.
Place into buttered or sprayed muffin tin. (Can use chocolate chip/raw sugar method mentioned above, or add nuts, or anything you like, or bake plain.)
Bake at 375 degree oven for 20 minutes.
Remove from pan immediately to wire rack to cool. I use a fork or spoon to gently lift them out.
Can serve them split underneath good ice cream (homemade is best!), or cool a little then sprinkle with powdered sugar, or just cool and eat as is.
Makes 12 cupcakes.

Art of the Delicious

"Without the culinary arts the crudeness of reality would be unbearable." ~~ from Kate and Leopold

Isn't that the truth. When I'm cooking something delicious I know I am an artist. The creation wafts aromas into the air bringing appreciation to my work. One person, then two, then more meander to the source, noses sniffing, smiles of appetite stimulation on their faces.

Eventually the colorful, hungered-for foods arrive at the table before my seated participants.

We are transported to another world, one where the main objective is to move delicious meats, vegetables, fruits, breads, and more into our mouths for gratification. We eat. Quietly at first but together. Glances are exchanged. Throat sounds of delight and curiosity. Soon all out conversation and merriment ensue. It's fabulous!

The crudeness of reality is forgotten in the bliss of a carefully executed culinary experience, of art.

It's easy to do, to transport ourselves away from cares and ugliness. And it's quite affordable. One need only heart, passion.

Results of existing in divine sustenance, however momentary, are relaxation, nourishment, connection, stress-relief, and inspiration. Certainly worth the effort especially if the blessings infuse those we love.

Artful eating. Beautiful life.

Food Around the World

Time Magazine posted an eye-opening selection from a book entitled What the World Eats.

A fascinating portrayal of food consumption and money spent (converted to U.S. dollars) per week by individual families all around the world.

For example: (click on photo to enlarge)

United States: $341.98

Japan: $317.25

Mexico: $189.09

China: $155.06

Italy: $260.11

Bhutan: $5.03

Chad: $1.23

I've posted only seven of fifteen photos. Click here to see the rest of them. I think you'll agree it's a worthwhile use of your time. A healthy dose of reality does a person good.

Getting it Right

Jamie Oliver, one of my favorite cookbook authors and television chefs, says he's noticed, on trips to Italy, that many of the young people live what is considered 'modern-day life' but it's actually equivalent to life in the U.S. and Britain circa the 1970's. They do have cell phones and computers but they are not an essential part of everyday life and not as many people have them as do here. Jamie says, "There is also a massive working-class population and a very small proportion of wealthy people."

He goes on to write:

So I think Italy has managed to retain a lot of its brilliant things because there hasn't been a lot of choice available. I really believe that. And for me it creates quite a profound emotion because sometimes when you have too much choice you can lose sight of the things that really matter - your family, your kids, and your health. With Italians being the third longest-living nation in the world, behind the Japanese and the Icelanders, you can see that they're not doing much wrong even with a lack of choice! Yes, they do eat loads of saturated fat and olive oil, and they also cook on charcoal and wood (which is supposed to be carcinogenic), but they eat in a balanced way - loads of fruit, veg, fish, and meat - and they keep active. ~~ from Jamie's Italy, Jamie Oliver

Apparently Italian children as young as four nestle between mothers and great-grandmothers in daily pasta-making. Children are also thoroughly fluent in which herbs go with which meats and much more.

To teach children hands-on skills and knowledge from the start is the best way I know to instill not only traditional ways but the satisfaction that comes from knowing how to care for oneself and one's family throughout life.

These traditional ways, to me, are priceless.

Mangi!

All Intents and Purposes

I love everything about food. Real food. Food from the earth, gathered and prepared with passion, shared with loved ones or savored alone. Better with people, though, because of the shared excitement, the mutual moans of delight, the words of description, and expressions of wonder.

I'm not entirely certain how it is that I have become the cook/baker that I am given my childhood experiences. Mom liked the 50's convenience foods. I didn't encounter real spaghetti with fresh marinara sauce until I made it myself when in my 20's. Mom's version of spaghetti was Franco-American from a can. Chinese food was Chung-King from a can and I hated it. I made myself a peanut butter sandwich on Chinese night. French fries were frozen, chicken always fried, pork chops were leather, and vegetables were canned or frozen and cooked to mush. When Mom began to garden after I left home, still the veggies were cooked to mush. Freshly harvested from the garden then cooked till all that was left was the pulp. Dad made her mad when he suggested she cook her vegetables they way I do.

So, how did I wander from Cool-Whip to fresh whipping cream, from canned pumpkin pies to pies made from fresh grown pumpkin roasted in my oven, from cheap meats to grass-fed, from Oscar Meyer lunchmeat sandwiches to marinated mojito chicken on crusty grilled bread, from stale herbs in a jar to growing my own, from fast food to well, nausea at the thought of fast food?

I don't know. It was such a slow journey.

But I suspect it began with my hearing loss. Our bodies being the amazing things they are compensate for deficiencies by ramping up somewhere else. Born with a moderate loss seems to have enhanced my palate. Much pleasure is to be had from energetic taste buds, and much pain, too, when they encounter frown-inducing food-like substances set on a dinner plate.

My taste buds saved me. They shouted at me that, 'There must be a better way! Find it! We're dyin' down here!"

So, I found it. My sense of smell - equally enhanced - led the charge and worked hand in hand with my tongue. I took Home Ec. in school where I learned some techniques, but again, the courses were pretty deficient. Tenacious me found recipes and articles in Mom's Ladies' Home Journal and McCall magazines. Not great, but a place to start. Then I discovered Julia Child and her enthusiasm went a long way. PBS had some excellent cooking shows in addition to good old Julia.

Eventually, Tom and I summoned our courage and began frequenting good restaurants in order to broaden our experiences. We have never looked back. The world of real food with its glorious tastes, textures, scents, colors, and robustness - gorgeously presented - opened up for me. Soon I was shopping in better grocery stores and creating dishes out of my own imagination and wowing my family.

And wowing the family was extremely satisfying because not only were they being nourished they were happy, eager, and connected. We all were.

I'm pretty pleased with the fact that I halted Mom's less-than-stellar cooking legacy in one generation. Nipped it in the bud. All four of my kids have refined palates which crave food as it was meant to be. That's my legacy.

It's a valuable one.

Together my family and I continue to learn from one another, to brave new cuisines, techniques, crossing barriers into the unknown, and enjoying the passion together.

Mangi!